The Queen of Diamonds

by Patricia Loofbourrow

  I need to meet a friend outside your bar. 7 tonight. — J

  I sent that note with Pearson in a stack of my usual mail — answering letters, requesting information, and the like. I also asked him to get the carriage for me.

  I detested social calls. Hours of sitting in one stifling parlor after another, repeating the same banalities with women who hated me. I had my flask with me, though, and after each call, I celebrated its end with a good stiff swig. When I approached Honor at the last call on the list, he said, "Spadros Manor?"

  "The Kerr house, if you please." Since I was out, it seemed a good opportunity to visit Joe to see if he even remembered our prior meeting.

  Honor nodded. "Yes, mum."

  I shook my flask, which had been full of bourbon, but it hardly sloshed. Only a bit remained. No matter: Josie would surely have something to drink there.

  I would be proper as any upper, and I would set Joe straight. I couldn't allow Joe to believe we had any future together.

  The maid ushered me to the Kerrs' parlor, directing me to a battered armchair which faced away from the door.

  I pointed to the sofa, where I might see Joe and Josie enter. "I'd rather sit here."

  "They were specific, mum. Miss Josie said it was a surprise."

  I sighed. "Very well."

  I wanted to see Joe for as long as I could. All my other visits today had been of the fifteen minute variety; if I lingered too long here it might arouse suspicion.

  But if they had set a surprise for me ...

  I heard the door open behind me, and close, then Josie pushed Joe around the sofa in his chair. Joe smiled his glorious smile when he saw me. "Hi, Jacqui."

  The bandage on Joe's head was gone; a red patch at his hairline remained. He had a cast on his arm, and his thigh was now in a cast as well. Josie pushed his chair between my armchair and the sofa, so Joe faced me, yet sat to my left. We almost touched. Josie sat on the other sofa, to my right.

  "I hope you both are well?"

  "Very well," Josie said. "And you?"

  Joe sat so close I could smell his scent, feel his warmth. It took all I had in me not to reach out and touch him. "Very well indeed."

  Josie smiled. "I'm glad to hear it."

  Joe said, "Josie, would you play for us?"

  "I would love to." She rose, going to the piano, and once she sat behind it, the top of her golden curls was all I could see.

  It was then I noted that the sofa was unusually far from the table, with plenty of room to wheel Joe near me. So this had been their plan all along.

  Josie began to play a soft tune.

  Joe said, "How are you, really?"

  I smiled, feeling quite warm. "I'm well. How do you feel?"

  "I feel well. The doctor says I'm making good progress. I should be out of this chair soon."

  Relief washed over me. "I'm so grateful."

  "Josie told me of your work. Are you in danger?"

  It seemed I was always in danger, but to say so would only worry him. "I only take simple cases; in this one, I'm more of a debt collector than anything else."

  "Ah," Joe said, leaning back. "It seems so menial for you."

  Josie played much better than I did."It's a bit more complex than I made it seem, of course. But I don't want you to worry."

  He gazed at me with those beautiful eyes. "Josie also told me of your fears. I'm not ashamed of anything I said when last we were alone."

  Oh, dear. "You remember?"

  "I meant every word." He leaned over and kissed me.

  I don't know how long we kissed. I don't know what Josie played. But when our lips parted I felt breathless, dizzy. I whispered, "How can this possibly be?"

  "We were meant for each other." His lips brushed mine, then our foreheads touched. "I only think of having you in my arms."

  The thought of what might happen to Joe if someone walked in right now frightened me. "If anyone should learn of this —"

  Joe brought his good hand to my cheek. "Josie loves you as much as I. She would never betray us. No one else shall ever know." He pulled me close, kissed my forehead; my hand lay on his chest. "This place can be our haven, if you wish it."

  I wanted Joe more than anything in the world. But how could I betray Tony's trust and come here under false pretenses? How could I put Joe in this kind of danger?

  Joe's fingers dropped to mine. "I'm sorry."

  "You have nothing to be sorry for." I stroked his fingers with my thumb, wanting desperately to kiss them.

  I had to be strong. I had to set Joe straight. "Tony's a good man. We've been together many years now. He loves me."

  "Josie tells it different. You're unwilling. He violates you every night."

  "It's not like that." The carpet had a hole in it near the table leg. "He thinks I go willingly." Joe's eyes, normally green, were amber in this light. "Roy Spadros threatened to kill me if I revealed I was forced to marry. Tony doesn't know."

  "His father has you trapped."

  I moved my hand to the arm of my chair. "It's more than that. I ... to do this ... it would be horrible. I love Tony as a brother. He relies on me. He ... he bares his heart to me. He's a good man, but not a strong one. If he learned of this, it ... it would destroy him."

  "Why do you care?"

  "I've known him since I was twelve. I care about him. He's a good man, doing the best he can in a terrible situation."

  Joe shook his head. "He's a murderer many times over. He killed Ottilie, and Poignee, and Treysa — our friends. He shot them in the head and dumped them in the Pot. Or don't you remember? I don't understand. Why are you defending him?"

  "I don't defend what he does. He's in the Family. He has to do things which you or I would shudder at. But he hates it. He wants to take me and leave here. He stood up to his father for me, which no one in this city ever dared do."

  Joe didn't speak for some time. "So he defies his father. He takes you and leaves Bridges. And then what? Is he going to suddenly not become a murderer? Are you going to stay with a man, sleep with a man, who you feel for only as a brother? Live a lie for the rest of your life?" He paused. "Why?"

  I hadn't thought that far.

  "You used to think for yourself, Jacqui. Have these people turned you into one of their puppets?"

  Had they? The thought shocked me.

  I didn't care what Tony had done. He surely had never pulled the trigger on anyone, with the exception of Duck. I couldn't see him even ordering someone's death without the fear of his father and men driving him. But Joe was right; even if Tony and I left Bridges tonight, our marriage was doomed.

  "I know we can never be together," Joe said, "but I thought — maybe, if you wanted, we could have some moments here." Joe's shoulders slumped. "I thought perhaps you still loved me."

  My heart tore in two. Crying out, I took hold of his beloved face and kissed him again and again. "I do, I do ... oh, gods, how could I not? You're everything to me." I began to weep. "You're the only thing that's kept me alive through all this."

  His face lit up. "You love me." He held my hand to his chest, eyes closed. "All this pain has been worth it."

  It was as if he spoke my exact thoughts. I leaned over to touch his soft, soft hair, his beautiful face. I whispered, "I'll tell you a secret. Every night, I love you. You're in my arms, you're inside me. I kiss your lips; I pull you to me."

  He peered into my eyes. "Truly?"

  At that, I felt sad. "If only it were. But in my heart we've been together these past three years." I told him then what Ma told me to do, how I searched inside myself during that terrible wedding night, and how I found him there.

  Joe kissed my forehead. "Then tonight, I'll seek you as well."

  When I left Joe's I felt light as a bird. He loved me.

  I could visit when I liked. And Joe could come visit me. It wasn't much, and we might never have anything else, but for now, it was enough.

  On the way home, I reached for the brass speaking tube. "
Stop by Dame Anastasia's, please."

  "Yes, mum." The driver's voice sounded tinny.

  Why didn't Anastasia tell me what she was doing? Didn't she trust me? Perhaps she thought I might disapprove of her liaison with Frank. Which was interesting. If he knew we were friends, calling me over to her house would have been the perfect way for him to capture me, without having to kidnap David at all.

  What was Frank really doing? I needed to talk with Anastasia to see if he had given her any clues as to his plans. But Dame Anastasia wasn't home, so I left my calling card.

  It was very strange; she had never not been "at home" when I stopped by before.

  ***

  That night, I told Pearson I felt fatigued. I would be retiring early, so there was no need to make dinner for me.

  After Amelia helped me undress, she left. I put on my disguise of widow's brown, with the shoes, hat, and thick veil I only used while on cases. Then I slipped out of the house and past the guards. It took a while to find a taxi-carriage, but soon I was on my way to Vig's bar.

  Vig Vikenti always greeted me loudly. So I didn't go in the front door, rather around to his side entrance, raising my veil when I opened the door. His mother gave me a glance and nodded as she stirred her pot in the lamplight. It smelled of frying meat. "Vig say you come here. Bad luck, woman wear brown." She herself wore brown, but I learned not to try to understand the logic of the old. "Go to Vig's room."

  I patted her shoulder as I passed.

  The hall past her was lit golden by a gas lamp far down the hall. Halfway down the hall on the left, the window blind was pulled down. Slits of blue-white light spilled onto the wall from the electric street lamp outside. Doors lined the right; Vig's room lay at the end of the hall.

  When I got to the blind, the door just past it opened. A dark figure came around to face me, the slits of light shining on his face. I stared at the man in horror.

  "Blitz Spadros. What the hell are you doing here?"

  The Meeting

  Blitz Spadros was Tony's cousin, our night footman, and sometimes (during the day) played piano in Vig's bar. "I could ask the same of you," he said. "I'm supposed to be protecting you. But I find you here. Why are you here, Mrs. Spadros?"

  "That's none of your concern."

  "I must be particularly inept at speaking tonight, because you're not understanding me. My entire concern is where you are, and more to the point, why you're here."

  "Why do you care?"

  "I thought it would be obvious. My loyalty is to the Spadros Family." He paused. "Who is your loyalty to, Mrs. Spadros?"

  I pushed past him, and he grabbed my arm. "You haven't answered me."

  I turned to him, and the lamp down the hall illuminated his face. "I'm sorry you don't trust me, Blitz. I'm not doing anything to hurt my husband, or to hurt the Family. I'm only meeting with a friend."

  He let go of my arm. "Meet with your friend, then."

  I went to Vig's room and knocked. The brown-haired woman Vig called "Gypsy gal" answered, gesturing for me to come inside. Blitz stood outside, arms folded; she shut the door in his face.

  "I have dress for you," she said, bringing out one of hers.

  "I don't know your name," I said. "Vig called you —"

  "Vig call me all sort of name," she said, as if irritated at him. "But I'm Natalia." She began helping me out of my dress.

  "A pleasure to meet you, Natalia. Where are you from?"

  "I'm of the Romani. We travel. But we're here long before the Troubles."

  I frowned, not understanding.

  "Ah, you call it Catastrophe." She paused, pensive. "Yes, my people say it very bad." She paused. "Like that name he call me," contempt laced her voice, "Gypsy. It be like 'Pot rag' —"

  I flinched. Yes, I had heard that one enough times.

  "Very bad." She tied a scarf on my hair. "There. You look like me, enough to fool cops." A shot rang out in the street behind me. "Now go."

  "Thank you."

  Vig's other door opened to the street, and I peered out. A figure lay several feet to my right. Sawbuck stood over it.

  What the hell was Sawbuck doing here?

  I ran to them; the figure on the ground was Marja. I stared at Sawbuck in horror. "Did you kill her?"

  He shook his head. "I found her like this."

  I knelt beside her; she still lived. "Marja, what happened? Who did this?"

  She shuddered, a dark red pool spreading beneath her towards the curb. Her eyes filled with tears, then glazed over. "Ahhh ... Josie ...." She never breathed in.

  I closed Marja’s eyes as grief crushed my heart. “Even dying, you loved her.” I looked at her face, vision blurring. I’ll keep Josie safe, Marja. I promise. I took Marja's hand, kissed it. “May you be dealt better cards next time.”

  "We need to get out of here," Sawbuck said.

  Who did this to her? Why? I searched Marja's pockets: nothing. But she held a crumpled paper in her hand, and I stuffed it into my pocket.

  A gunshot. Whistles, from far off. Police hats bobbed far past Sawbuck, running towards us from beyond the front of the bar.

  "Run!" Sawbuck grabbed my arm, and we ran around to the other side of the building. I noted a taxi-stand across the street, but we went round the second corner to the door I went in at first.

  A shock of surprise as Morton ran up panting, eyes wide. "I saw her. The woman I told you about. She just shot at me!"

  We sat in the carriage on the way to Jack Diamond's Party Time factory. Morton stared at the floorboards as he told his story.

  "Zia and Frank brought me to a third-floor office with a name-plate on the door," Morton said. "Frank Pagliacci, Assistant to the District Attorney, Clubb quadrant. When we went in for the meeting, a woman with black hair sat behind the reception desk. He called her Birdie."

  I stared at him, remembering Roy's story of the anonymous letter sent by a black-haired woman.

  Sawbuck looked confused. "What woman?"

  "Follow me." I ran to the door. I didn't know how they found me, but I had to get my dress back.

  The men followed me inside. Vig's mother was nowhere to be seen, but a great commotion of police sounded to be in the front hall of the bar. Blitz leaned against the wall in the hallway, turning to face us as we entered. I opened the first door, surprising an unclothed couple, who after a glance, ignored me.

  The next room was empty. "Go in there. I need to change clothes before they get here." The men went inside. I ran to Vig's room, scooped up my dress, and hurried my way into it. After I put on my hat and veil, I shoved Natalia's dress under Vig's bed.

  I sat on Vig's bed. So Tony set Blitz, Sawbuck, and Morton to follow me tonight. Why would he think I’d go anywhere?

  I returned to the room and double-knocked. Blitz opened the door. "Come on in."

  Sawbuck pointed a gun at Morton, who sat in a chair by the wall, an alarmed look on his face. "It seems Master Rainbow hasn't been entirely truthful. He knows Frank Pagliacci."

  I went into the room. "Don't be ridiculous, there's no need for pointing guns. Master Rainbow told me this earlier. He's yet another of Frank Pagliacci's victims."

  Morton looked dismayed at my analysis, as if he hadn't considered it that way before.

  Sawbuck didn't budge. "When were you going to tell us this?"

  "Come on, Master Hogan. Think. We have a bigger problem."

  Sawbuck holstered his gun. "What?"

  Blitz said, "Getting out of here, for one. It won't take long before the police start searching rooms."

  I laughed in spite of myself. "Well, since the mayor's in the room next door, I hope they do. But that wasn't what I meant. I came to meet a friend who warned me my life was in danger," I told Blitz, "and Master Hogan here found her outside, shot dead."

  Blitz was no longer smiling.

  "Whoever shot her might still be out there," I said, in case they hadn't figured it out yet. Sure, it was Ma that Marja warned me about, but I didn't want to te
ll them about her.

  Blitz said, "Why'd you come here to meet her? We could've had her brought to Spadros Manor."

  I hadn't considered this, so I had to think fast. I remembered the taxi-stand across the street. "She was in Hart quadrant. Could you still have had her brought here?"

  "Good gods," Sawbuck said. "I knew it was a mistake for Mr. Anthony to speak for Hart the night of the dinner." He twitched, then glanced at me. "Sorry, mum."

  Somehow I felt unsurprised at his knowing this.

  Blitz had been listening at the door. "I think they're gone; this might be our chance to escape." He opened the door a crack, then his hand jerked towards his revolver.

  Natalia's face came into view. "Ah! There you are. The police are searching rooms. You," she gestured at Sawbuck, "take the lady. Come with me."

  Sawbuck offered his arm to me and the others followed.

  Natalia brought us back through the kitchen. But instead of leading us out of the side door, we turned left down another long hallway with windows to the right. Police filled the street, rushing to and fro. At the end of the corridor she pressed on a wall panel on the left, which clicked, opening onto a hidden door. I thought the door might lead to the lobby, instead it revealed a long flight of stairs headed down. "Go there, then right. At the end of the hall, go up. Knock three times. Tell them I sent you."

  I handed her a dollar. "Thank you."

  She winked. "You were never here."

  We went down the stair; the panel clicked behind us.

  The stair was narrow, yet well-lit, as was the corridor, which more than crossed the street. After going up the stair, Sawbuck knocked three times. The door opened; a man stood with a gun pointed at us. Sawbuck turned to me, face filled with alarm.

  "Natalia sent us," I said. The man put away his gun.

  I smiled to myself at the sighs of relief around me.

  The man gestured for us to follow. We went through an ordinary-looking pantry, ending up in the back alley.

  Once to our carriage, Blitz held out his hand, as Honor usually did, but I stopped, speaking quietly so the driver might not hear. “You men did your duty, and I’m grateful. But I’m worried about my husband's distress should he learn of this meeting. Is it necessary to tell him?”